To Fight Our Fates
by SassMasterTheGreat
Summary: Nyra, a Bosmer thief trying to defy her fate and live a normal life in the thieves guild has found herself drawn to a certain Imperial. Her attempts to get away from being Dragonborn has pushed her all the way into the middle of a civil war tearing the country apart. Will she be able to fight against fate and follow her heart? Or will all her hopes at normality go down the drain?
1. Taverns and rain

**Hello everyone! I've been playing Skyrim like crazy and decided to write my first fanfic on it. This is going to revolve around my Dragonborn Nyra, her struggles with accepting her fate, and her feelings for a certain Imperial general. Seriously though, Tullius is pretty good looking. Am I right? I will be really grateful for any critique or advice on my writing since this is my first fanfic ever.  
****Hope you enjoy!  
**-

The night was to cold to her liking. Nyra, being the tiny Bosmer she was, would never get use to Skyrim's icy weather. Her auburn hair was still thankfully pulled back and out of her face. She felt relief when it had began to rain and wash away the blood that had stained her thieves guild armor, but now her bare arms were covered in goosebumps. She shivered as the rain took away the heat in her body and run off her body.

Her footsteps were soft and quiet as she entered the Bannered Mare. The warmth that filled the building felt amazing after her long trip from Riften. With having to deal with bandits, trolls, a giant, and one damn dragon, she was ready for some mead.

She silently made her way over to the counter and sat down, not bothering to remove her cloak or hood. She nodded to the bartender, Hulda, and the woman placed a mug of mead in front of Nyra.

"You look awful, dear." She spoke lightly. Nyra sighed and gulped down her drink. It wasn't as nice as Black-Briar mead but it had to do.

"I had some business in Riften, not to mention I had a run in with a damn dragon."

Hulda leaned forward, her eyes shining with interest. "A dragon, truly? What did it look like?" Nyra shrugged, paying more attention to her drink.

"Bigger than a house and more scales than an Argonian." She said with indifference. Nyra heard a familiar laugh behind her.

"Is that really how you describe them? If so, you're a terrible story teller." Nyra looked over her shoulder and saw Helven. The muscular Breton smiled widely at her, his large blue eyes shining. Hulda nodded at him and handed him a mug as well, then going back to wiping the counter.

It had been a few months the last time she saw him, being buried in work back at the thieves guild. He seemed less like the big oaf and more like a warrior, or a harbinger. He had grown some facial hair which was turning into a full beard, and had black warpaint around his eyes and running down his neck. His entire appearance however seemed more savage however, which disturbed her slightly.

She remembered back when she had first met the man. He was nothing more than an over eager kitchen boy in the manor she worked at as a guard. He wore rags, dirt on his cheeks, and a bruise on his hand from the chefs spoon but was still a bundle of sweetness. He began to follow her around when she started her new job there, like a puppy in truth. Eventually she stopped shouting at him to go away and just let him follow her around the manor. Nyra felt the tips of her mouth turn up in a smile at that memory.

He sat down and reached to pat her on the back, but a quick glare stopped him. He seemed to have forgotten the "no touch" rule they established 20 years ago.

"How are you Nyra? I haven't heard from you in a while, I was starting to get worried." He said jockingly. He knew she could take care of herself, and she knew he could as well. She simply shrugged.

"I've been caught up in some business in Riften, there's been a surplus in jobs there and I had to take them." She admitted.

Helven's smile faded a little, disapproving of her line of work.

"Oh, and none of them were linked to Whiterun? Oh well I suppose that answers that question." He mused and took a sip of his drink.

"What about the dragon problem?" He implored cautiously. She felt the anger that had boiled up earlier appear again. Nyra glared at him and got tense. Well, tenser than she usually was. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a crumpled letter, handing it to him.

She watched as he opened the letter. His eyes scanned the letter, and his smile disappearing more and more. When he was done he crumpled the letter just like she had when she read it. He handed the balled up paper back to her.

"Who in Oblivion do they think they are?" He hissed. Nyra looked at him straight in the eye. "I have no idea, but they aren't getting their audience. I'm sick of fighting dragons!" She seethed. 'I'm no dog people can call for at any moment' She thought. Helven leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Nyra, you can't stop fighting them. No matter how hard you try you can't escape you're fate. You're the one that told me that you know." He insisted. She had told him that nearly 20 years ago.

"These dragons are going to keep on coming and someone has to kill them, permanently. And there's only one person who can actually do that, and I'm sitting next to her." He pressed, his eyes shining with conviction. Nyra looked away, knowing he was right.

Nyra shook her head. "I-I just need a break." She grumbled.

"From what, killing dragons?" Helven shot back. Nyra felt her cheeks turn red with rage. She stood up from her stool, slapped some coins on the counter, and gave him the darkest look she could muster.

"From everything Helven." She hissed through her teeth. Before he could say another word Nyra left the tavern.

The rain was coming down in sheets now but she didn't care. She ran down the street, out the gates, hopped on her horse and left. _'I just need to clear my head.' _She thought. The rain pelted her hood and soaked a few locks of hair that stuck out from it. Her yellow warpaint, two lines underneath her left eye and one above, was now smeared and running down her cheek.

_'Why did this happen to me? I never wanted anything to do with this damn place!'_

She never realized that she had urged her horse into a sprint. Mud and water splashed onto her clothing, drenching her completely. She made her horse continue onward, making her way to Rorikstead. She didn't know why she was heading there, or that there was a dragon flying right towards her in the dark.

A thundering roar brought her out of her daze and before she could react the dragon shouted and a blast of ice smashed into her and her mount. She flew off, skidding in the mud and into a boulder. Dots flooded her sight as she tried to stand up. _"Come on Nyra, get it together!"_ She shouted inwardly.

She stood up and reached for her NightingGale bow, a gift from Karliah. She drew back an arrow and looked up at the white dragon flying overhead. It let out another roar and flew back around. She quickly aimed and released the arrow, finding itself in the dragon's neck. It reared its head back and roared again, flying higher. All Nyra had done was piss it off. She cursed and looked around to find her horse. It was laying in a pool of mud and scarlet blood. She had no quick get away now.

She reached up and touched the wound on her head and felt the warmth of blood on her fingertips. She could either run away or continue fighting. She cursed her stubborness and drew another arrow. She watched more carefully and let the arrow fly. It sunk itself into the dragon's wing but it continued to fly. The dragon flew in her direction and shouted again, its voice shaking her bones. She darted to the right but the icy blast hit her left leg, bones snapping.

She screamed as she crashed on the ground, landing on her wounded leg. She curled up and clutched her leg gently, she let out a string of curses as pain shot up and down her leg. She wasn't supposed to die like this, not like this. She opened her eyes and looked up at the dragon, it soared and looked as though it would descend again and finish her off.

She fumbled for Chillrend as it flew closer and closer to her. She pulled it out of its sheath, the light glow shined through the murky darkness of the night. "Come on you damn creature!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. Before it landed she gave out most likely her final shout.

_FUS!_

The shout hit the dragon right in the face, dazing it and making it crash land, a deep trench was left in its wake. She watched as it slowly got up and faced her. Those bright yellow eyes flashed with the same rage that others had described her with.

It turned and clawed its way over to her, a deep growl rumbling from its throat. Nyra laid there, Chillrend in hand and blood on her face.

A sudden realization had hit her in the gut. Her last words to her closest friend, no, a brother, weren't that of fondness at all. She had sat there and hissed at him like some scolding old hag. Though it wasn't more than whispers, she had blamed him for this. He came to Skyrim and she followed. Getting captured. Helgen. Thieves Guild. Everything.

She felt her resolve break, her hands shook as tears welled up in her eyes. She wasn't a brave Nord or an all powerful Altmer. She was a simple Bosmer with a cold exterior and broken leg. And she was going to die here in the mud.

"Come on..._COME ON!_" She shouted at the dragon. It opened its jaws, sharp teeth the size of daggers shined white in its giant mouth. She began to lose her vision, the edges of her sight turning dark. She felt herself begin to lean and fall over, laying on her side as rain came down in sheets on her.

Before her world went dark from blood loss, she saw soldiers dressed in red appear. They began to fight the dragon, overwhelming it in numbers as they slashed, shot, and skewered it. She watched as one noticed her and ran to her.

She remembered a man with short grey hair and piercing eyes.


	2. Dragonborns and smiles

**SECOND CHAPTER IS UP EVERYONE! I'M REALLY HAPPY THAT I GOT SOME FEEDBACK FROM THE FIRST CHAPTER SO HERE'S THE SECOND ONE. i'M GOING TO TRY TO GET A CHAPTER WRITTEN AND POSTED ONCE A WEEK. I REALLY DON'T LIKE IT WHEN A STORY DOESN'T GET UPDATED IN A LONG TIME SO I'M TRYING NOT TO DO THE SAME THING. ANYWAYS LET'S GET THINGS UNDERWAY HERE!**

**...**

General Tullius was a military man through and through. He had been through many battles and had seen many things in his many years of life. He had led soldiers into battles that weren't in their favor and come out alive. Hardly anything could surprise him now, except for this.

They had been making their way back to Solitude after a successful attack on a Stormcloak encampment in the Whiterun Hold. The Stormcloaks there had been intercepting so many of the Legion's couriers and supply lines that he had decided to come out here himself to end it. The battle had been swift and successful, no stormcloak was left there alive. Hadvar had told him as they were making their way back that those traitors would be back, and he couldn't agree more. Those nords always seemed to have a way of bouncing right back and that was a major thorn in his side. Their trip back was supposed to go smoothly, without any delay. The Eight seemed to have different ideas apparently.

The thundering shouts had spooked their horses and some of the newer soldiers. A couple of horses had knocked off their riders and ran off. His horsed reared and shook its head frantically in a fright. He took hold of the reins and pulled his horse out of its frantic state. He looked all around to find the source and what he found was...shocking.

A large white dragon loomed over someone that was covered in mud and blood, wielding a blue glass sword and clutching their leg. They looked absolutely terrified but he watched as the person shouted at the dragon, provoking it closer.

_"They're going to get eaten."_

He watched as it came closer to the person, its heavy foot falls could be heard all the way over to where he was. He snapped out of it and shouted commands to his men, sending them in to take the dragon down. They reacted quickly and some dismounted their horses and began to fire arrows at its large, scaly hide. Others ran straight ahead and charged at the beast. The giant creature had found its attention drawn to his men and roared.

As they drew their swords to face the beast, he dismounted and quickly made his way over to the injured being laying in their own blood.

What he found was odd.

The person who had fought the dragon was a small, bosmer woman. Blood was splattered across her angular face and what he guessed was once yellow warpaint was now nothing more than a smear. Her long and curly auburn hair was now knotted and soaked with mud. Two long scars were on the right side of her face, one below her eye and another on her lip. She seemed so weak...

_How could such a small thing stand and fight a dragon?_

She had just lost consciousness when he reached her broken form. Her sword was still in her hand and her left leg looked broken. Blood trickled down her face and into her hair making it even darker. He quickly called over Hadvar to keep an eye on her for him. The soldier rushed over from the fight and before he could argue Tullius was already up and gone.

When he stood and looked back over to his men he saw that one soldier was caught in the beasts large jaws. His mouth was open in a silent scream as the dragon bit him in half. The dragon reared its head back and threw the soldiers' body away, flying like a rag doll.

He shouted a curse and charged over, unsheathing his sword and swinging at its ugly snout. He sliced at it as more of his men came over and helped him take it down. It reared its head back and shouted at them, the noise nearly bursting his ear drums. He had just barely gotten out of the way in time, but two of his men were flown backwards. He heard a sickening crunch and one cry out in pain upon impact.

He shouted at the dragon, attempting to draw its attention away from his men. It snapped at him with its giant teeth and Tullius side stepped away. He raised his sword and brought it down on its neck, digging in deep between the scales. The dragon roared painfully as he took another swing again, blood splattering his face as he did so. The dragons large tail swung around wildly as though it was panicked. He took one last swing and finally got down to the dragons spinal cord, severing it.

The large creature swayed and fell to the ground, the ground shaking upon impact. Tullius breathed heavily as he sheathed his sword and stepped away to look at the carnage. Two of his men had died, and another injured. He was going to have to write a letter to the men's families about their fates now.

He turned and made his way back over to the bosmer. Hadvar had her head on his lap, the woman looked even more paler than before. Hadvar raised his eyes at him and shook his head.

"She's not going to make it without proper treatment. This head wound looks bad and her leg is pretty banged up." He informed Tullius.

He looked back down at her, her face seemed...familiar in a way. Had he met her before? He would have remembered seeing someone so out of place. Hadvar must have noticed him staring at her and smiled a little.

"Remember Helgen? She was that prisoner that wasn't on the list. She helped me out of there, you know." He mused.

"I even went as far as to asking her to join up with us. Though I'm pretty sure that day wasn't the best day of her life at all."

The memory of that day came back to him. He had watched stoically as she stepped off the cart, in dirty rags and a scowl on her face. She didn't look anything like a stormcloak would, and why his soldiers took her prisoner was beyond him. She had stepped up to the block grudgingly but had held her head up high. That same trait had apparently stayed with her. Before he could call off her execution however, that black dragon had attacked, and everything went to Oblivion afterwards.

He snapped out of that memory when he heard a series of crackles behind him. He turned around and froze as he watched the dragons remains begin to burn, unaffected by the now light rain. The fire licked away at the dragons remains and charred the moist ground around it. The white scales cracked, the muscles burned, and the bones were all that remained. The bones kept the ominous glow of the fire, making it seem as though it was still alive.

Suddenly, the bright glow began to materialize and before he could do anything, it shot towards him.

The light brushed past him, gliding across his armor and making its way to Hadvar and the bosmer. Hadvar looked ready to shit himself as the light found home and hit the bosmer. For some reason it seemed like it was being taken in by the bosmer. Absorbing the energy.

The yellow light danced across her skin and she became less pale. Almost like it was restoring her. He watched, fascinated by the strange sight before him. She seemed to glow with life and look stronger as the light entered her body, like some sort of goddess.

As the light began to fade, the bosmers chest shuddered as she took in a breath. She gasped for breath for a few seconds but her breathing became more even as time went on. One of his soldiers looked around at everyone before pointing at her in shock.

"By the gods, sh-she's the Dragonborn!" He exclaimed.

He remembered hearing Rikke and some of the other soldiers talk about Dragonborns back at the Solitude barracks. They said that Dragonborns could absorb a dragons soul and steal their powers, killing the beast permanently. He had scoffed and had returned to his work.

Sure he had heard rumors of one wandering Skyrim, but he never imagined anyone other than some hulking Nord. She was the complete opposite of what he and his soldiers had thought of. Now he owed Rikke 100 septims.

Hadvar looked between him and the woman. "Sir, what should we do?" He questioned.

His first thought was to take her to Whiterun, but distance wise Rorikstead was far more closer to them. His troops could stay at the inn there and they could give this _Dragonborn_ proper medical attention. He turned and faced his soldiers now.

"We head to Rorikstead, dead and all." He announced. His men looked between themselves and nodded, moving quickly under the rain, collecting their comrades remains. The more experienced soldiers were use to seeing such things, but that doesn't mean that they aren't affected.

The rain began to finally lighten up, leaving them completely drenched. If they didn't get to Rorikstead soon, they might all just freeze thanks to Skyrim's lovely weather. He disliked this weather, but he was stuck here until this damn war was over and Ulfric's head was on a platter.

He walked over to his horse who, to his luck, did not run away. He reached out and patted its neck. "Good girl." He muttered. The horse raised her head and whinnied. Before he mounted however, he turned and looked at Hadvar and the bosmer. The soldier was wrapping her up in a damp bed roll, trying to keep her warm. She looked less pale but the icy chill would get to her. He made his way over two the them and took her in his arms.

"Your horse ran off, She'll ride with me for now." Tullius stated. Hadvar looked at him questionably but nodded an acknowledgement. He turned and headed back over to the other soldiers while Tullius stood there with the bosmer in his arms, feeling slightly triumphant. She seemed even smaller now in his arms, but even unconscious she seemed to have a scowl on. He had to admit that it was pretty amusing.

He struggled a bit with trying to get on his horse while holding on to her but after a good minute he finally managed. He placed the small bosmer on his lap, her head resting on his shoulder. The second her head hit his shoulder she nuzzled even closer, searching for warmth in her sleep.

The corner of his mouth went upwards at that but it quickly fell as he looked back at his soldiers. They all looked expectantly at him, waiting for orders from their general.

"MOVE OUT!" He shouted and urged his horse forward. His soldiers quickly followed him. Most of the more able bodied walked while the rest rode on horses, keeping a hold of the dead and wounded.

The uneven road twisted and turned as they made their way to the town. The night became calmer now as the stars broke through the clouds. The light from them shined down on the grass and trees around the group, making the landscape shine.

As they continued on Tullius looked down at the woman in his lap. She seemed at peace and even had a smile on her face as she leaned into him. He felt something inside him stir at this unintentional affection.

That made him smile as well.

**...**

**THIS CHAPTER SEEMED TO HAVE FALLEN A LITTLE SHORT IN MY OPINION. I JUST THINK THE FIGHT SCENE COULD HAVE BEEN LONGER BUT OH WELL. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND I'LL GET THE NEXT CHAPTER UP SOON! ANY OPINIONS ARE WELCOMED.**


	3. Planning A New Path

**~GOOD DAY EVERYONE! I HOPE YOU'VE HAD A LOVELY TIME WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER SO HERE YOU GO. HOPE YOU ENJOY~**

**...**

Nyra groaned as she slowly came back to the land of the living. Her head was pounding and as she shifted around pain shot up from her leg. She hissed and fell back into the...bed?

Why in the name of Nocturnal was she in a bed? The last thing she remembered was that dragon being attacked by some strangers in red.

_Where am I?_

As carefully as she could, she sat up trying her best to not disturb her leg. Small fits of pain shot up but she fought against it. She rested against the headboard and took a second to look around the room she was in.

It was a small room with a table and a dresser at the end of the bed. The small candle on the table was burning low and barely gave off any light, but from what she could tell it was daylight. There were small beams of light peaking through the cracks in the walls and ceilings. She noticed that her bow and sword rested on a chair next to the dresser. Both items had been cleaned and sharpened.

_Who did this?_

Nyra looked towards the door, whoever brought her here must still be out there. She swung her good leg off the bed, touching the cool floorboards. She took in a breath and moved her leg off the bed. It screamed in pain as she did but she bit down on her lip to keep herself from shouting.

She gently grabbed her leg and brought it down to the floor, the coolness helping with the pain. She breathed a sigh of relief at the fading pain.

"Okay Nyra, you can do this." She whispered to herself. She gripped the back of the chair as support and heaved herself up. Pain shot up and her leg gave in. She cried out as she fell, knocking the chair over as well.

Her weapons clattered to the floor as she reached down and clutched her leg. She swore at the pain and attempted to stand when someone barged in. She looked up and saw that the man was the Imperial soldier from Helgen. What was his name?

"Hadvar?" She groaned as she tried to right herself into a siting position.

Hadvar rushed over instantly with a worried look on his face. "What are you doing?" He shouted as he picked her up. He placed her back on the bed but Nyra shoved him away, hissing in pain.

"Where am in Oblivion am I and why are you here?" She yelled. He seemed taken aback by her outburst and before he could reply someone appeared in the door way.

"He's with me and we brought you here to rest." A strong voice spoke. Nyra looked up at the figure and saw that he was an Imperial in his mid-forties or maybe even fifties. He had closely cropped grey hair and dark eyes, the atmosphere around him just screamed _military man_. Nyra had to admit though, he was fair to look at.

He stepped in the room and looked between the two of them before crossing his arms.

"What happened in here?" He addressed Hadvar.

"She was trying to get up and knocked the chair over, sir. I came in and put her back on the bed." Hadvar answered.

Nyra looked between the two, confused by the way Hadvar had spoken to the man. He seemed familiar in a way.

"What's your name?" She questioned. He looked down at her and met her gaze. Those were the same eyes from before...

"I am general Tullius of the Imperial Legion." He answered. That explained the military feel around him. He stepped over and lifted the chair up right, placing the weapons back in the same spot.

"Now, you asked me a question so it's my turn. What's YOUR name?" He inquired. Nyra sat up straighter as she spoke.

"My name is Nyra, from Riften." She responded. She wasn't going to tell them anymore than that. Who knows how they might react to hearing her titles.

Tullius didn't seemed pleased with her short answer and pressed on. "Nyra of Riften, and the _Dragonborn_." He said.

_Well shit._

Nyra felt herself tense at that and worked her jaw. "Yes, but how do you know that?" She didn't like where this was going.

Hadvar looked up at Tullius, like he was asking a question. Tullius nodded and Hadvar answered her question. "You got attacked by a dragon, remember? Well we were able to take it down but afterwards the dragon just burst into flames! You seemed to have absorbed some sort of power from it."

Tullius stepped forward to continue. "That...power seemed to have given you new life. In all my years I've never seen anything like it." He seemed impressed in a way. Nyra wanted to feel proud, but not for being Dragonborn.

"Yeah well, I suppose I should say thank you." She mused. She hardly ever said that, only once to Helven. But these guys kept her from dying the way she never wanted to. Tullius nodded and Hadvar smiled in appreciation. Nyra looked out the door and glimpsed into the main room.

"Where are we exactly?" She pondered. Tullius followed her gaze and then back to her.

"We're in Rorikstead right now, my men needed rest and your wounds needed to be tended to." He said. Nyra looked down at her leg, it looked swollen and she could feel a numbing pain. There were a couple of stitches from where she guessed the bone had pierced. She felt far too weak to use any restoration magic, but if she got a hold of a potion or two...

She smiled inwardly and looked back up at the two.

"I think I might be able to speed up the healing processes of your men and I." Nyra said. Tullius seemed intrigued by this.

"How, are you an alchemist as well?" Hadvar quipped. Nyra smirked and nodded.

"I just need some wheat and blue mountain flowers, there's gotta be a lot around here. I can make some healing potions and we can all be on our separate ways."

She watched their faces closely. The many years she spent around that manor had taught her how to read face expressions. And to be honest, she was very good. Hadvar seemed completely hooked on that idea, probably knowing that his friends would be better soon. Tullius seemed less inclined to trust her however. He most likely did not trust her, seeing as how they were complete strangers. To tell the truth, she didn't trust either of them.

The feeling was mutual.

"That sounds like a fair plan, what do you think sir?" Hadvar looked at Tullius with hopefulness in his eyes. She just wanted to get out of here, but if she was going to be stuck with them, best try to not piss them off. But they should also follow that rule as well.

"Very well, I'll send one of my uninjured out to get those ingredients. Until then, I think we need to make a few things clear."

Yay.

"Those are my men that got injured by saving you, some didn't even make it. So I want my men patched up first." He was pissed but was able to hold it down. Not bad.

"Fine."

"Second, I know thieves guild armor when I see one, so no theft or you lose a hand." His eyes shined with conviction. He apparently was one that held up to his promises.

"Alright, I swear on my honor as a thief that I won't steal your things." Nyra drawled. She watched as his frown deepened from her tone but he knew she'd keep to her promise.

"Then we're on the same page." He turned to Hadvar now. "Get her something to eat, can't have her fixing my men up on an empty stomach." He turned and made it over to the door before looking over his shoulder at her. Nyra met his gaze and held back a shudder.

She looked at the details of his face, strong jaw and a straight nose, he had a few wrinkles here and there but not enough to look like an old man. His dark eyes carried a bright spark in them.

She liked it.

Nyra cracked a small smile just before he turned away and left the room, closing the door behind him. She watched the door for a few seconds before Hadvar cleared his throat. She had nearly forgotten about him.

She looked over at him, he raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "So...Dragonborn huh? Was it your ma or pa that was the dragon?"

Nyra felt a slight blush and slapped his arm, making him laugh.

_'He's like a Nord version of Helven'_ She thought dryly.

"Alright, to avoid anymore of your horrid abuse, I'll get you something to eat." He said with deep sarcasm as he placed a hand over his heart, as if he was wounded. Nyra rolled her eyes as he left as well, still chuckling.

The silence fell down into the room again, leaving Nyra to her own thoughts. She realized something, Helven had no idea where she was!

The man was trying to support her, and she had just ran off. Was he worried for her? He'd have heard the shouts through the storm, hell, all of Whiterun must have heard it. Maybe he found the dragon's bones and her horse. There was also the guild to think of. She was gone at most a month. Brynolf would tell them not to worry and the guild members would take his word for it. Once in a while she'll just disappear, on an adventure or something. The guild wouldn't worry, but she'd have to send Helven a letter about what had happened.

Nyra was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't hear Hadvar come back carrying a bowl of venison stew. The aroma hit her nostrils and her mouth watered. Like most Bosmer, she had a love for all kinds of meat.

"You look hungry-" Hadvar could barely finish his sentence before Nyra ripped the bowl from his hands. She grabbed the spoon he had with him and began to shovel food into her mouth. Hadvar watched in shock as she wolfed down the food in less than two minutes.

Nyra looked up from the near empty bowl and saw his mouth was ajar, but he closed his mouth and shrugged. "Kinda reminds me of my first week at the training camp."

Nyra wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, swallowing down a chunk of meat before talking. "What's it like in the Legion?" She asked. She couldn't imagine it being that different than being a mercenary.

"It was hard, becoming part of the army. You get two meals a day and train the rest, then you sleep in packed barracks. The drills we did...some soldiers cried!" He exclaimed, raising his arms up.

Nyra cocked her head to the side. That was nothing like a mercenary at all, but her old master was still worse. "You sound very...at ease about it." She said.

Hadvar chuckled and waved the question away. He turned the topic to her now. "What about you, what's your story?"

Nyra bit her tongue, thinking of how she was going to play her words right.

"Do you mean before Skyrim? Because if so, you have to be a friend for that story." She said. Hadvar raised his hands in defeat.

"Well then, I guess I should become your friend." He mumbled. His eyes sparkled as an idea came to him.

"I know, you should join us!" He grinned widely and Nyra was too shocked to reply. Join the Legion? She already had to deal with the guild but...Brynolf and Karliah could run it for a while. And the dragonborn nonsense was already pushed to the side.

_I've been looking for something else to do..._

Hadvar continued on talking. "I told you earlier that the army could use more people like you. And with the way the war is going, an extra shove from a certain someone will win us the war!" He smiled widely as he finished.

Nyra looked back at the door, then a small grin plastered her face.

"You know, I just might do that."

**...**

**I THINK I DID PRETTY GOOD ON THIS CHAPTER, BUT I WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK. SO PLEASE A REVIEW ON WHAT YOU THOUGHT. ANY CRITIQUE IS ACCEPTED HERE. HOPEFULLY I'LL GET TO WORK ON THE NEXT CHAPTER SOON. PRAY I DON'T GET SPANISH HOMEWORK.**


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